


So We Endure

by hollybennett123



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bickering, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Sexual Tension, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: Patience is a virtue, though Loki's virtues are few and far between.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I went to see Thor Ragnarok (the first Thor movie I'd actually seen) and oopsie daisy tripped and fell into a new MCU pairing I had no intention of getting involved with. I've now seen all three Thor movies and omg I love Loki, he is SO much fun as a character. What kind of a messy bitch who lives for drama. So then this happened.
> 
> Also: [Podfic version](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175957) and [Russian translation](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6657184) now available!

If he were more inclined toward feelings of compassion, Loki thinks, then perhaps in this instance he could almost pity Thor.

Almost.

After all, Loki had known exactly where this night was going long before he’d brought Thor to his bedroom, tugged him inside by the wrist and pressed him down onto the bed like a promise. It was Loki, too, who had climbed astride him, and leaned in and kissed him until they were both left breathless and wanting.

It is Loki now who waits for Thor – naïve and unsuspecting – to lift eager fingers to Loki’s clothing to begin undressing him; who takes each of Thor’s hands in his own to still them and says, with a wicked smile, “I think _not_.”

Thor’s momentary confusion clears swiftly to understanding. Loki is almost impressed with how quickly he figures it out, but then again, it’s hardly the first time Loki has set this particular trap and caught him unaware.

“Ah,” Thor says, his expression a compelling mixture of both amusement and frustration. “Now _this_ is a game we haven’t played in some time.”

Lazily, Loki sits himself upright. Cocks his head to one side, considering. “Is it a game?”

Thor lays his warm hands atop Loki’s thighs and looks him in the eye. Says, laughing softly: “You certainly seem to enjoy it.”

It is a game, really, and one borne out of boredom at that. This instance is no exception; life aboard the ship is extraordinarily mundane for the most part as they move steadily toward Midgard, and Loki is _bored_.

Of all the weapons Loki can wield and tricks he can conjure, this particular bit of power play – trivial as it may be – provides adequate entertainment with minimal collateral damage. Given that he’s reasonably satisfied with their current situation and trying to avoid any behaviour that’s likely to have him thrown bodily out of an airlock, Loki believes that that can only be a good thing.

“Just know,” Loki tells him mildly, “that if you come without my permission, I will find out. I might be _very upset_.” He leans in to press his mouth to the column of Thor’s neck and Thor tilts his head back, giving in to temptation despite now knowing that this is as much as Loki is willing to give for tonight. When Loki shifts his weight slightly, their hips still flush together, Thor near enough moans at the friction. “But think how badly I will want you to fuck me after this,” Loki goes on. “How hard I will beg for it. I would let you _ruin_ me.”

Thor is a very fetching shade of pink now, flushed with arousal. “Believe me, Loki, when I say I have difficulty thinking of anything else.”

Loki smiles. There is nothing, of course, preventing Thor from doing whatever and whomever he pleases: but this is their game, and Loki knows that he is the one prize Thor cannot resist. The rules are for Loki, too, and it wouldn’t be half so enjoyable otherwise.

There was one singular occasion – many years prior, and both barely out of their teens – wherein Thor had grown tired of Loki’s provocation, and deliberately made a show of inviting a pretty maiden back to his bedchambers for the evening. Loki, never one to be outdone where petty dramatics were concerned, retaliated the next day by seducing two of the castle guards. Having convinced the both of them to fuck him in Thor’s bed, he thereafter gleefully refused to let Thor touch him for weeks just to spite him for breaking the rules. Loki looks back on it fondly; knows without asking that Thor most certainly remembers it too, albeit with perhaps a _little_ less fondness.

“Surely, brother, you would let me find relief by my own hand?” Thor asks like an afterthought, as though Loki might actually take pity on him and relax the rules for once.

Loki kisses him, hard, just because he feels like it. Bites at his bottom lip to hear him gasp.

“Of course not,” Loki says when they part, and punctuates it with an eye roll. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Understood.”

“Good,” Loki says, and climbs gracefully from Thor’s lap. “Now. Please get out, I want to sleep.”

Getting to his feet, Thor gives a quiet sigh and takes a moment to smooth his tousled hair and straighten his dishevelled clothing as though he isn’t fighting a losing battle with both.

“If only you weren’t so stunning as you are cruel,” he says, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps this would be easier.”

Loki leans back against his desk and folds his arms. “Do you really think that flattery will work on me?” he says tartly. “Because it doesn’t. You surely know me better than that.”

“I think that _you_ think that flattery doesn’t work on you,” Thor grins.

Scowling, Loki considers which nearby object would be best suited to fling at his head. Thor wisely chooses to hasten his retreat before the decision is made.

***

The next day, Loki finds that his path doesn’t cross Thor’s even once until evening comes around. The ship and the people aboard it require constant attention, and Thor prefers a more hands-on approach when it comes to assisting with maintenance and other matters. Loki finds such things tedious and filled with inane conversations with people he’d rather not be talking to, and tucks himself away in a quiet room for research and planning wherever possible.

Even if their paths diverge for most of the day, supper tends to be a social affair; a time for all of the ship’s inhabitants to gather together for food and good cheer regardless of their status or stature. The largest room on the ship is packed with an assortment of mismatched tables and chairs, with people cheerfully settling on the floor once the seating is filled to capacity.

Purely for his own amusement, and with the sole intention of riling Thor to the greatest extent possible, Loki takes a seat between Heimdall and Thor and carefully and deliberately ignores his brother for as long as he can manage it.

Some time between the serving of the second and third courses, Thor leans in close and plucks Loki’s wine glass from his hand, drawing Loki’s eyes to his before he can think to look away.

“Must I vie merely for your attention now? Among other things?” Thor teases quietly, exasperated yet fond in equal measure.

Glowering, Loki reaches for the glass, but Thor holds it just out of reach with a twirl of his fingers; how Loki _hates_ it – and loves it – when Thor manages to turn Loki’s little games back on himself. Thor wears dignity and restraint so attractively these days, when he sees fit to. It’s tremendously irritating.

“I didn’t realise you wanted my attention,” Loki replies loftily. “Perhaps you should have asked nicely, and I would have given it to you.”

“I want a lot of things,” Thor murmurs, barely audible over the hum of chatter that fills the room. He hands the wine glass back to Loki with a smirk, his fingers trailing over Loki’s wrist as they part just to drive the point home. “But you are a _brat_.”

He turns away from Loki then, and doesn’t attempt to speak to him again.

Loki exacts his revenge mere minutes later, casually running his thumb along the inside of Thor’s thigh beneath the table they feast around. Thor chokes and splutters for a moment before he recovers, and Loki hides his smile behind the press of a napkin before retiring to his room for the remainder of the evening.

It wouldn’t do for him to let Thor have the final word, literal or otherwise. 

***

The next night, Thor is already in bed when Loki lets himself into his room, though he stirs and sits up calmly when he hears the door creak inward. He doesn’t look particularly surprised to see him.

“I’m sleeping here tonight,” Loki informs him.

“Are you?” Thor says, amused. “I don’t remember inviting you here. I’m assuming this doesn’t mean we’re going to –- ”

“ -– no,” Loki interrupts, his smile showing just a hint of teeth. “It doesn’t.”

Thor watches silently as Loki undresses down to a pair of sleeping pants, and Loki lets him. Even as Loki stands at Thor’s mirror, brushing his hair in careful strokes, he feels the weight of Thor’s gaze on him, unwavering.

Once ready, Loki settles into bed, comfortable between the warm sheets. They aren’t quite as luxurious as the ones he would pick if he had the option, but they’re soft and they smell familiar and he’s drowsy the moment his head hits the pillow.

Starlight creeps around the edge of the curtains that cover the room’s sole window, illuminating the bed just enough to see by. Turning onto his side, Loki waits until Thor has done the same so that they may face one another.

Loki holds one hand up in front of himself and Thor mirrors the action, pressing their palms together gently. He can’t recall the first time they did this, but it’s a gesture they repeated often in childhood and never quite got around to leaving behind.

“Are you well?” Thor asks quietly.

Loki presses his hand more firmly against Thor’s, appreciating the way Thor’s fingers exceed his own in length and breadth. He radiates warmth, and Loki wants to bask in it always.

“Yes. How was your day?”

“Boring,” Thor laughs. “Uneventful, though it seems now to be considerably improved.”

Loki rolls his eyes at him, but notes with some satisfaction the spark of hunger he sees as Thor takes in the sight of him. The match has already been struck, Loki thinks; all he must do now is fan the flame.

Realistically speaking, Thor surely knows that Loki isn’t going to give in before he does, and yet he still looks at Loki as if there might be a slight chance somehow that he could change his mind. That Thor thinks he could give in to temptation so quickly is frankly insulting. Loki sees that sliver of hope in Thor’s expression and wants to dash it to pieces as cruelly as he can manage; wants to see shipwrecks in the stormy sea-blue of Thor’s eye and laugh at the chaos he’s created.

Loki disconnects their palms and edges closer. Bringing his hand to Thor’s hair, he runs his fingers through the short strands as Thor leans into his touch. Sliding their legs together in a lazy tangle beneath the sheets, he tugs sudden and sharp at Thor’s hair and Thor _groans_ , a low sound that has Loki’s stomach twisting with want.

“ _Gods_ ,” Loki murmurs, and can’t quite hide the way his breath catches in his throat. “Tell me -- if I had let you fuck me tonight, here in your bed, how would you have had me?”

Thor fits one hand to the bare skin of Loki’s hip, and glances across his face as though searching for the correct answer in Loki’s expression. There isn’t one to find, in truth: Loki isn’t concerned with the specifics, and merely seeks the thrill of hearing whatever comes to Thor’s mind first.

“Tonight?” Thor says after a moment, his voice satisfyingly gruff. “I would suck you, to start, until I had you close to spilling in my mouth. Then, I think I would put you on your hands and knees. I’d hold you in place by your hips and take you twice over, if you’d let me.”

Loki hums a satisfied sound, and leans in to kiss him -- a breathy, barely-there brush of their lips. “Good answer.”

Thor’s hand at Loki’s hip grips at him more firmly and Loki revels in the sharp intake of breath he hears when he moves close enough to feel him properly. Thor is very obviously half-hard beneath the thin pants he’s wearing to sleep in -- but then, so is Loki, and he presses himself to Thor’s thigh to make sure he knows it. Loki can’t help but be thankful that Thor hasn’t opted to sleep completely unclothed tonight. It’s difficult enough when Thor nudges up against the naked skin of Loki’s belly with only the one layer of fabric between them; to feel him slide bare and wet against him would be the sweetest form of torture.

Calling upon a profuse amount of willpower, Loki leans in once more as if to kiss him; clutches at Thor’s shorn hair and purrs against the corner of his mouth: “don’t get _too_ excited.”

Thor goes quite still beside him, huffing a soft breath of stunned laughter. His trembling frustration is an exquisite, almost tangible thing, and Loki couldn’t be happier. He carefully disentangles himself from Thor then, and moves smoothly back to his own side of the bed.

There is such glorious, fiery intensity in the way that Thor looks at him that Loki finds he cannot look away. He watches him take one steadying breath and then another, as if to regain his composure.

“Such wicked games,” Thor murmurs at last, though he’s smiling as he does so.

He draws Loki’s hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it, a simple gesture that has Loki’s heart fluttering in his chest in a way he won’t ever admit to. Loki does however touch his thumb to Thor’s lower lip as he withdraws his hand, letting it linger in a fleeting moment of affection.

“Would you expect anything less?” Loki asks in return, voice barely more than a whisper.

Thor only shakes his head where it rests upon his pillow, fond, and says nothing more.

Predictably, it takes some time for the maelstrom of tension to ease and for sleep to take its place, but the steady rhythm of Thor’s breathing beside him remains a comfort to Loki throughout.

 ***

On the fourth day, Loki is already waiting for Thor by candlelight when Thor retires to his bedroom for the evening. He’s sitting at the end of the bed and fidgeting with impatience when Thor finally walks through the door.

“Loki,” Thor greets him, looking pleasantly surprised. How adorable, Loki thinks. This utter fool.

“Be quiet,” Loki says. “I’m not staying here tonight. Get on your knees, I want to watch you.”

There’s a sudden and satisfying flash of defiance in Thor’s eye as he apparently weighs up whether or not he’s willing to play along with yet more of Loki’s whims tonight, and oh but it’s so much _better_ this way. How terribly dull it would be, Loki thinks, if Thor submitted sweetly every time.

Thor says nothing as he begins to undress, starting first with his cloak and continuing onward until he’s in nothing more than his breeches and boots. Each item of clothing is handled carefully and put away in its proper place.

He is testing Loki’s patience, Loki knows. Acting on his own terms and taking back some degree of control just to see how he will react. Loki can be good, though, if he feels it will serve the most satisfying outcome: he waits, and keeps quiet, until Thor decides that Loki can have his way after all.

Thor gets to his knees before Loki, just beyond arm’s reach, and lifts an expectant eyebrow. How simple it is, Loki marvels, to put him exactly where Loki wants him. Thor might like to convince himself that he still has the upper hand here, submitting to Loki only to humour him: but here he is at Loki’s feet, just as Loki willed it.

The candles at Thor’s bedside paint his skin in shades of gold and Loki truly looks at him now, awestruck. He looks unreal, limned in light and shadow, and Loki could stare at him for eternity.

“Stroke yourself for me,” Loki says, sounding more breathless than he’d intended.

From where he sits, he nudges Thor’s knees wider apart with the toe of one boot; watches Thor’s breeches pull taut over his thighs and the swell of his cock, and swallows thickly.

Thor rubs the heel of his hand between his legs with a soft grunt of pleasure, and Loki briefly forgets how to breathe at all. He watches, enraptured, as Thor unbuttons his breeches and draws out his cock. It thickens in Thor’s hand as he gives himself a couple of slow strokes from base to tip, and Loki bites down on his own lip to keep from making a sound.

“You torment yourself just as much as you torment me, brother,” Thor says as he idly draws his thumb up the vein on the underside, his voice a low rumble.

Loki’s mouth waters; he thinks his own expression is probably one of pure hunger, and doesn’t deny it. He wants it so badly he aches, and the ache feels so _good_.

Thor continues to pull at himself with firm strokes, his cock now impressively thick and hard within the cage of his fingers. He looks at Loki calmly, each breath and each steady slide of his hand rhythmical enough that he seems barely affected, but the tension suffused in his shoulders and the dark, burning heat in his gaze gives away what the rest of his demeanour does not.

Moving from the bed, Loki gets down on one knee before him. He looks Thor up and down with scarcely concealed longing, and Thor remains silent, his hand slowing to a stop.

“I could put a collar around your neck,” Loki says thoughtfully, running the sharp edge of a fingernail all the way around Thor’s throat. It leaves a pink trail in its wake that fades almost as quickly as it was applied. He places his hand to the side of Thor’s neck, his thumb fitting into the divot between his collarbones; presses in, gentle but firm, and Thor’s breathing goes ragged, his cock drooling precome over his fist where he’s still gripping at himself. “If I tugged on your leash, you would follow me wherever I asked.”

Thor shivers minutely, and Loki doesn’t think he’s ever seen him unravelling so prettily before. “I would follow you regardless,” he rasps, and Loki smiles.

Glancing to Thor’s cock, Loki tries not to think of how easy it would be to give in at this moment; to strip himself of clothing and ask that Thor fuck him right here. How unbearably perfect it would be to ride him into the floor.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Loki reaches for him. He slides the pads of two fingers across the head of his cock, circling slow and teasing over the wet slit, and Thor makes a whimpering sound that almost has Loki conceding then and there. He doesn’t, though, holding onto the thought that it will be all the sweeter for having waited. Loki slips his two fingers into his own mouth and sucks, bitterness blooming on his tongue until Thor is the only thing he can taste.

Content, he kisses Thor once, chastely, and rises to his feet.

“Don’t come,” Loki reminds him sharply. His footsteps sound loud in the quiet of the room as he strides toward the door without looking back. He leaves Thor there upon the floor, still on his knees, the very picture of ruin.


	2. Chapter 2

Without doubt, Thor stays true to the rules of their game. Loki knows this because come the morning Thor has succeeded in aggravating almost everyone on board the ship with his awful mood. Naturally, Loki is delighted.

In the absence of anything particularly important to be doing, Loki walks around the ship and lingers wherever Thor isn’t. He encounters Valkyrie in the makeshift armoury, polishing the blade of an impressively ornate dagger; she scowls the moment she sees him, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to piss him off,” she says pointedly, and it’s immediately obvious to whom she’s referring. “And frankly, I don’t want to. But he’s insufferable today.”

“Oh? I don’t recall upsetting anyone,” Loki lies, enjoying it immensely. “How strange.”

Valkyrie gets to her feet, boots scuffing on the floorboards, and stands before him. Somehow, despite being several inches shorter than him in height, he always feels as if he should be looking up at her. She touches the flat tip of the blade to the underside of his chin, lifting it and smiling sweetly.

If it were anyone else – speaking more generally – Loki would take the knife from them in an instant and insert it neatly into their shoulder for daring to test him. Valkyrie is one of only a few exceptions. Their unorthodox relationship borders on friendship, if either of them were willing to admit aloud to wanting or needing friends. He doesn’t trust her, nor she him, but he finds being at the receiving end of her weapon and her wit quite exhilarating, and always did enjoy flirting with danger.

“Really?” she says dubiously. “I find that difficult to believe. His _Highness_ has been stomping about since the early hours, asking anyone and everyone to spar with him and sulking if they refuse.”

Loki doesn’t even attempt to hide his smile at that. “Goodness, I haven’t even seen him today. You have my sympathy, truly, but I’m not entirely sure what you expect me to do about it.”

“Tell him to stop being an arse,” Valkyrie says bluntly, and Loki laughs. The tip of the dagger twists slightly, pressing against his skin just a fraction more. Valkyrie looks profoundly satisfied at the way his breath catches.

Loki smirks, but quells his laughter and deigns to hold himself very, very still after that. “You know, you should tell him that yourself.”

“I already did,” she sighs. “It didn’t work.” She takes the dagger from Loki’s chin and eyes the dull tip of the blade with a look of distaste. “Ugh. I’ll have to polish that again, now.”

“Nice dagger,” he says approvingly.

“Nice dodging of the subject,” she shoots back. “Get _out_. Talk to Thor. The pair of you give me a stress headache no amount of ale can fix.”

***

Loki finds Thor exactly where he expects to: in the ship’s gymnasium, attempting to distract himself through strenuous physical exertion. It is of no surprise that the room is otherwise deserted.

“You always were an insufferable show-off,” Loki scoffs.

Thor, shirtless and determinedly performing a series of one-handed push-ups, wavers in surprise at Loki’s sudden appearance but recovers admirably.

“How could I be _showing off_ when there was no one else here?” he grits out.

Choosing to ignore that perfectly reasonable observation, Loki instead leans himself casually against the nearest wall. He takes a coin from his pocket and tosses it in the air; watches it spin before he catches it and throws it again. Idle distractions, he finds, are always good for ensuring that Thor receives exactly as much attention as Loki is willing to give.

“You know, you really should learn to control your temper,” Loki muses, sparing Thor only a momentary glance. “How unseemly it is that the King of Asgard should give in to such tantrums, like a petulant child who hasn’t gotten his own way.”

“You say that as though you aren’t to blame,” Thor mutters, lowering himself to the floor once more before rolling over and sitting up to face Loki properly.

Tossing the coin high with a flick of his thumb, Loki lets it evaporate in a shower of sparks and heaves a long-suffering sigh. Thor never _gets_ it, no matter how many times Loki puts it to him. He takes a step forward and looks Thor in the eye.

“I am not responsible for your lack of self-control; I want it just as badly as you do. In fact, I think of little else,” Loki enlightens him, keeping his voice low as though they are sharing a secret. “I’m just better at hiding it than you are,” he adds smugly. “But enough of this. I’ll be in your room in an hour. You can have me however you want me, _sire_.”

There’s a hint of a smile at the corner of Thor’s mouth at the final word, though his desire is plucked less by the honorific and far more by the arch sarcasm it’s laced with. Thor always was an odd one, but then, Loki himself hardly has room to talk.

Thor gives him a weary look as he mulls over Loki’s words, unconvinced. “Loki, I cannot take any more teasing,” he groans eventually, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of one hand. “I’m going mad from it.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Loki says, rolling his eyes. “I’m being entirely truthful. No more teasing, I promise.”

“If this is a trick, I will find something you love, and I will burn it in front of you,” Thor says, and from the look in his eye Loki doesn’t doubt it in the slightest. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“It isn’t a trick,” Loki assures him. “You must trust me on this.” Loki offers him a hand to pull him to his feet and Thor reaches for it, his look of gratitude quickly making way for annoyance when his hand passes right through Loki’s. “ _That_ was a trick,” Loki laughs from the doorway. “One hour. Don’t be late.”

***

“You might recall that you were allocated your own bedroom right here on this ship,” Thor says as he closes the door behind himself and unlaces his boots. Loki almost laughs aloud at the tangible relief and naked desire on Thor’s face at finding Loki right where he’d promised. “I’m not sure why you insist every time on breaking into mine.”

 _Breaking_ is hardly fair, Loki thinks. _Circumventing_ , is closer to the truth; his magic has left nothing broken here. He considers voicing his opinion on the matter but stops short of it, distracted as he is, laid out on Thor’s bed in nothing but his tunic with two oil-slicked fingers knuckle-deep inside himself.

Instead he twists his two fingers with a breathy groan for show, though the way he gasps as he adds a third is entirely authentic. Thor looks thunderstruck, standing unmoving by the door. How fitting, Loki thinks vaguely. How horribly, wonderfully predictable.

“I am aware, Thor,” Loki says, and keeping his voice level takes no small amount of effort. “Perhaps you’d prefer I return there alone, and get myself off without your help. Maybe I’ll find someone to -- ”

“ -- you are the most infuriating person I’ve ever met,” Thor interrupts, and looks at Loki as though he wishes to _devour_ him. He adds, his voice and expression softening as he approaches the bed: “And unfortunately for me, also the most desirable, the most insatiable and most cruel.”

Loki regards him with a slow smile, and wipes his fingers clean of oil in glossy streaks across his own thighs. He curls a hand around the back of Thor’s neck and tightens his grip until his fingernails prick meanly at Thor’s skin. “Am I cruel?”

“Very,” Thor whispers, kneeling beside him on the bed, and he lets Loki pull him in to kiss him soundly.

“Desperation looks good on you, brother,” Loki murmurs against his mouth, but Thor makes no comment. Instead, he takes advantage of Loki’s parted lips to lick between them, and Loki gives a pleased hum, welcoming it.

When they finally part, they both are breathing a little harder. 

“So this is what you have been doing since I saw you last?” Thor says, amused, looking at Loki and at the oil that sits by the bedside. “It seems in your haste that you didn’t even manage to fully undress.”

“It seems not,” Loki agrees, though he sits up then to tug his tunic off over his head and toss it aside.

Thor sets about removing his own attire and Loki settles back on the bed, stroking himself and enjoying the view. Even while he remains clothed from the waist down, Thor is very clearly hard, and Loki aches at the sight of him.

“I believe you said that I may have you however I want?” Thor says. He’s half-dressed still and Loki wants to rip his breeches from him with his bare hands.

“I did,” Loki says, idly spreading his legs further apart, heels skimming over the sheets. It feels as though his whole body is aflame, he wants Thor inside him so badly.

Placing his hands at Loki’s hips, Thor surprises him by turning him over onto his stomach. Loki lets out a soft laugh of shocked delight and turns his head, pressing his cheek to the pillow.

“Gods, Thor, get _in_ me,” Loki groans, gripping at the bedsheets to busy his hands. Thor’s breeches are fastened with a series of buttons, and every second Loki spends waiting for him to finish unfastening them sets him further on edge, his patience now shattered. “You should have let me help, since you are so damnably slow,” he says bitingly. “I would remove each one with my _teeth_.”

Of course, he could have Thor stripped in a fraction of a second with no effort if he willed it, but there is little fun in that.

“And that is exactly why I don’t invite your help,” Thor says warmly, though his voice has a low, rasping quality to it now that Loki revels in.

He expects Thor to move away and strip himself entirely, but apparently his patience now runs short too; bracing himself on his hands over Loki, he thrusts carefully against him, just the once so that Loki may feel the full, heavy length of his cock. Then, at last, he’s pushing inside in careful increments with a shuddering breath.

“Did you miss me?” Loki breathes when Thor is pressed all the way inside and Loki feels extraordinarily full. Nothing ever feels quite so right and so perfect as this.

“ _Yes_ ,” says Thor. Loki cannot see him, but can imagine his expression broken open and honest, and it makes him inordinately pleased.

The rhythm Thor sets is strong and sure from the start, measured but with an exquisite edge of banked desperation he either cannot or will not keep hidden. Nevertheless, Loki is impatient, and attempts to push up onto his hands in order to rock back against him and hurry him up.

“Would you hold still?” Thor grouses. “ _I’m_ setting the pace here.”

“Make me,” Loki shoots back, and cannot fully hide his smile when Thor shoves him viciously to the bed with a hand at his shoulder.

Thor thrusts into him roughly, then, without preamble, so deep that Loki feels the buttons of his breeches bite at his flesh. When Thor lowers himself so that he is pressed to Loki’s back, it feels as though he is surrounded by him entirely. Thor moves in him in short, sharp thrusts that feel so incredible that Loki can barely stand it.

“You asked to be _ruined_ ,” Thor reminds him, dark humour in his tone, and Loki did, all those days ago; he said that Thor could ruin him, and here they are, and it is just as magnificent as he had planned it.

“Yes,” Loki spits, goading, and gladly lets Thor have at him however he pleases.

One of Thor’s hands finds Loki’s and pushes down, pinning him even more securely. Pressed to the bed this way, Thor on top of him so fully, Loki has no choice but to simply take it: Thor fucks into him, over and over and over, the thick drag of his cock sparking along Loki’s nerve endings and leaving him lightheaded with want. The friction against his cock where he rubs against the sheets is intermittent, tantalising, and never quite enough.

Thor smooths a hand over Loki’s neck, moving his hair aside with a gentleness that stands in stark comparison to the brutal grinding of their hips. So used to feeling Thor’s long hair brush against his neck alongside his own, Loki still finds it odd when it doesn’t, and thinks he is still getting used to its absence.

Pressing a kiss to Loki’s neck, Thor then moves to add another to his shoulder. The latter includes just the slightest scrape of teeth before he pulls away.

“Do that again,” Loki demands of him, “make it hurt,” and Thor indulges him, sucking a mark to his neck and then biting down on a particularly ruthless thrust. “ _Fuck_ ,” Loki breathes, “I want to come. I’m so _hard_.”

“I imagine you are,” Thor growls.

 _Damn_ him. Loki wants to hit him for being so maddening, and kiss him for it just as much. He feels as though he could fly apart at the seams were Thor not holding him in place, the warm weight of his body an anchor.

Three thrusts later, Thor slams into him and comes with a quiet groan, moving his hips in shallow pulses that make Loki want to shiver for how good they feel. It feels endless, Thor spilling inside him, leaking out of him each time he draws back; Thor has not come in _days_ , Loki thinks wildly, overwhelmed with desperation and raw pleasure, and pants into the crook of his arm since there is nothing else he can do.

“Thor,” he says, and he rarely concedes to allowing himself to beg for it, but elects to make a rare exception in this case. “ _Please_.”

Thor moves in him lazily, languorously rolling his hips as though relishing the feeling, and finally pulls out entirely. Turning Loki onto his back once more, he presses their mouths together fiercely, Loki’s hair held fast in the grip of one fist. Releasing him, he slides three fingers inside Loki with a joyous roughness that makes Loki cry out, curling them just-so as he takes Loki's cock into his mouth.

Loki comes near enough immediately when Thor sucks him so deep and so fast that he nearly chokes on it; can do nothing more than ride it out, gasping, arching from the bed. It is _spectacular_.

Thor is gentle with him, after, sucking at him carefully and licking around the head until Loki trembles and shoves him gently away.

Staring at the ceiling, Loki laughs, his thoughts pleasantly hazy. He cannot think straight, pleasure-drunk, and has no desire to do anything but lie here for the moment.

Thor finally rids himself of his breeches when he finds the will to move, and they lie facing one another, sharing idle touches and unhurried kisses in the silence. Loki is far from done with Thor yet.

“There are things I should be doing this evening. People I ought to be meeting with,” Thor protests lightly after some time has passed, though the way he fits himself back between Loki’s thighs and kisses him slow and dirty, his cock now hard again where he’s pressed to Loki’s hip, suggests he has no intention of doing those things any time soon. Their seats will be noticeably empty at supper tonight.

“How terrible it is that I keep you here, using you entirely for my own pleasure,” Loki murmurs, smiling.

Tracing the curve of Thor’s spine, he keeps going, dragging the tips of his fingers teasingly over Thor’s hole to make him shiver. The reaction it elicits is pleasing enough that he does it again, watching Thor’s face, captivated.

“If you want,” Thor offers breathlessly, the meaning made clear in the way he holds Loki’s gaze. Loki hadn’t any intention of taking him tonight, but Thor’s eagerness always makes for an enticing invitation.

“Mm. Perhaps later,” Loki says indulgently, tugging Thor closer. This, for now, is everything he wants.

It is beautifully effortless, the way Thor slides inside again. Loki is so relaxed, fucked so lusciously open and wet and slick, that it is the easiest thing in the universe to allow him back in. He tips his head back as Thor bottoms out; shuts his eyes, and sees whole galaxies behind his eyelids.

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki hisses, and grips at Thor’s hair, “more,” and takes everything then that Thor will give him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a fic tumblr which can be found [here](http://hollybennett123.tumblr.com) :) ♥
> 
> This was a fun to write, albeit a bit tricky; it was one of those fics where I start out with an idea in my head of where it's going to go, and then I start writing and the characters start doing something else entirely and I just have to go with it.
> 
> ALSO a couple of days ago I took a break from writing this and went to Youtube and Youtube recommended I watch [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_gmyTyYSVo)? Tom Hiddleston on Sesame Street? Talking about _delayed gratification_ of all things? I... just... I can only conclude that Youtube can see inside my soul, knew of this fic and is now kinkshaming me.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [So We Endure [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175957) by [hollybennett123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123)




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